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When it comes picking my highlights of the last year, I am impossibly indecisive – as ever there have been been the usual disappointments but there have been a fair few stunners in the arts calendar. I can’t believe how many shows I’ve seen but I also feel I’ve missed a lot – if only there were a few more hours in every day.

As I did last year, I’ve chosen the exhibitions that stand out for me as being remarkable; they include stunning art work, and are interesting and well-curated. Here we go…

Triumphant at Tate – Way back in February, I visited YayoiKusama at Tate Modern and I can still vividly picture the exhibition. Kusama has always been ahead of her time – her work is beautiful, innovative and ground-breaking. The exhibition worked broadly chronologically with each sequence of rooms studying the emergence of a new artistic stance.

Yayoi Kusama, I’m Here, but Nothing, 2000. Own photograph.

Radiant at the Royal Academy – while the rest of the world is still raving about Bronze, the RA’s highlight for me was their exhibition Johan Zoffany RA: Society Observed. I admit that, as an 18th century art historian, I may be slightly biased but through these 60 or so works, the RA successfully argued his importance to the artistic culture and heritage of his time.

Johan Zoffany, Three Sons of John, Third Earl of Bute and Three Daughters of John, Third Earl of Bute, 1763-4. Own photograph.

Nailing It at the National Gallery – SeducedbyArt is still on show at the National Gallery and is an unmissable exhibition. This divided opinion but, for me, it was a stunning and enthralling. Seduced by Art is not a survey, nor a history of photography. Instead, it offers an argument and dialogue that presents historical painting, alongside historical photography, alongside contemporary photographs. The National Gallery has had a strong year and I feel its Metamorphosis: Titian 2012 (with Wallinger’s Diana in particular) is also worthy of mention.

Jeff Wall, The Destroyed Room. Image courtesy of the National Gallery of Canada and via www.ng-london.org.uk.

Leaving London – EdwardBurra at Pallant House was the first major show for over 25 years of the artist’s works in which Burra is finally awarded a smidgeon of the recognition he deserves. It offered an opportunity to study his extraordinary creativity.

This explored the creative relationship between Mondrian and Nicholson, charting the parallel paths explored by these two artists during the 1930s. It was a far more contemporary show than we would normally expect from The Courtauld and it successfully changed the gallery aesthetic, pairing two artists who many wouldn’t otherwise have realised are connected.

Artangel’s commission by Lindsay Seers, took place in the Tin Tabernacle; Nowhere Less Now was a poignant amalgam of film, photography, sculpture, performance, animation, philosophy and writing. Its complexities still offer food for thought many months afterwards.

The Tin Taberacle. Own photograph.

Brilliant Bronze – Painting from Life: CarracciFreud, Ordovas

Having successfully juxtaposed Bacon and Rembrandt in the past, Ordovas knows how to get its shows right: Painting from Life was a tiny exhibition bringing together head studies by Carracci and Freud. This was an intimate, simple and stunning juxtaposition.

Last but by no means least – Runner Up – Alberto Burri: Form and Matter, Estorick Collection of Modern Italian Art

Before this exhibition, I didn’t really know who Burri was but he is undoubtedly a master of the 20th century who revolutionised the vocabulary of post-war art. From the simplest materials, Burri was able to create something monumental and striking, imbued with energy and movement.

But, there was also David Shrigley: Brain Activity at the Hayward Gallery, Leonardo da Vinci: Anatomist at the Queen’s Gallery, Rothko/Sugimoto: Dark Paintings and Secrets at Pace London, Tim Lewis:Mechanisms at Flowers, Doris Salcedo at White Cube and Louse Bourgeois: The Return of the Repressed at The Freud Museum and numerous great little shows at Josh Lilley.

I’m sure I’ve forgotten lots of gems. We are so fortunate to have such varied and high calibre art to admire on our doorstep. It’s so easy to get from gallery to gallery however precarious your footwear may be and, of course, there’s always a taxi around the corner.

It seems only fitting to include some of my favourite shoe pictures from the past year and to thank my principal shoe photographer (you know who you are).

Thank you, as ever, for reading Artista. I hope you had a very Merry Christmas and wish you all a Happy Shoe Year.

I was not the only one expecting big things from the re-launch of The Photographers’ Gallery which has been closed for two years for a mega £9.2 million restoration programme. The obvious ‘big’ is that the building now features a two-storey extension that doubles the size of the old gallery. Designed by Irish architects O’Donnell + Tuomey, the original Victorian red-brick warehouse is linked to the modern steel extension by an external sleeve of black render, terrazzo and Angelim Pedra wood. There is no doubt that the exterior is striking. The design is all about the importance of linking exterior and interior with picture-perfect windows punctuating the building that provide amazing views onto surrounding Soho.

The ‘new’ Photographers’ Gallery. Own photograph.

The gallery space itself is stunning but this is yet another slick building with no heart. The opening exhibition mounts a selection of works by renowned photographer Edward Burtynsky, showcasing over thirty images from his series OIL that looks at the mechanics of the manufacture, distribution and use of this highly controversial resource.

Edward Burtynsky, Highway #5, 2009. Own photograph.

Reading Adrian Searle’s review on Guardian online I couldn’t help but laugh at some of the obnoxious comments that had been posted in response to his description of the exhibition as ‘so-so’. In this instance, I think Searle is spot-on. Any photography fan will have seen these works before. Any photography fan will appreciate the visual dynamism of these works. Any photography fan will think this is an unadventurous choice of artist. I thought the gallery would have taken more risks. With low-level lighting (another gallery falling going down this gloomy path), the works aren’t shown to their full potential and I’m far more excited to see the display of his works at Flowers that opens later this week.

Edward Burtynsky photographs at The Photographers’ Gallery. Own photograph.

The gallery does have some interesting features. The Eranda studio includes its own camera obscura (offering a 360 degree view of the surrounding area which visitors can see by using a rotating turret in the window) plus there’s an environmentally-controlled floor which will allow the more extensive exhibition of works from archives and museum collections. There is also The Wall on the ground floor which is part of the new digital programme – this particular display will present guest-curated projects, artist commissions and collaborative photographic work. Currently The Wall is showing The Animated GIF, featuring over forty GIF images by practitioners from a range of creative disciplines. The GIF was first created in 1987 and this display seeks to celebrate its history and the aesthetic qualities of this medium, looking at the wide variety of approaches using this restricted palette of 265 colours.

The Wall on the ground floor. Own photograph.

There was still a lot of snagging to do when I went round although I’m sure this would have been righted before doors opened to the public. The stairs are rather hidden and use of the lift is being encouraged but it is so slow; make sure you’ve got ample time, not to walk around the exhibition, but to actually get up to it!

When we found the stairs…. Own photograph.

This is one of those spaces that will, no doubt, change drastically for each exhibition and I will be back for the Deutsche Börse prize in July to see if different works can spice up this attractive warehouse. I think it’s easy to get these spaces right but, seemingly, it’s even easier to get them wrong.

Last week I was charged with the responsibility of showing someone a few Mayfair Galleries. This should have been an easy task really considering the amount of time I spend in and out of these places but the sheer volume of galleries in Mayfair did present me with a challenge. However, with set start and finish times, a time restriction and a list of that evening’s private views, the journey mapped itself out with relative ease.

It was a luxury to spend the afternoon, strolling through these galleries and seeing the enormous diversity of brilliant art that such a small section of London has to offer. We began at Alon Zakaim’s new space on Dover Street, currently displaying a mixed presentation of 19th century works. Next, we dipped in and out of galleries on Cork Street including their original space as well as Flowers and Alan Cristea.

Hooking round into Old Burlington Street, we visited Stephen Friedman. To be honest, having missed the PV, I had forgotten what was currently on show here. As soon as we walked in we were both struck by the power of the canvases – eight large paintings by Li Tianbing in his debut UK exhibition. Friedman is known for having an eye for the crème de la crème and Tianbing is rightly regarded as one of the best Chinese-born artists of his generation.

These semi-biographical works recall the artist’s upbringing under China’s one-child rule. Introduced in 1979, the policy restricted married couples in urban areas to having only one child. Families still find the emotional consequences of this legislation too difficult to discuss – Tianbing’s own parents, despite having seen his works, find them too painful to talk about. It is thought that, since its inception, the one-child policy has prevented 400 million births as well as causing a serious increase in female infanticide, forced abortions and under-reporting of births. Second children are often registered as someone else’s or not registered at all, creating a whole group of people who do not officially exist. Those who are discovered are denied promotions, suffer benefit and pay cuts, are fined and are often made homeless.

When Tianbing moved to Paris at the age of 22 he took with him an album containing five slightly blurred black and white photographs – the sole memento of his childhood. Even this in itself is rare and the images were taken on a camera that his father had borrowed from the People’s Army propaganda unit. These images still have a profound effect on him, transporting him back to the lonely isolation of his youth. The multi-layered paintings are instantly comparable to the monochrome detail of these photos and show an imagined upbringing with fictitious brothers and playmates – the ones he was never allowed. Despite the multitude of figures often seen in these works, the children always seem alone, staring wide-eyed from the canvases, lost in their own thoughts.

In addition to his photographs, as a child, Tianbing only had one toy. Don’t Touch my Dog shows a group of boys holding their toy dogs, a reminder that Chinese children hardly ever owned playthings. The main figure holds his toy above his head and the others all look towards him. The fragmentary nature of the work, enhanced by the use of a mixed palette, highlights the nature of these broken and adapted memories.

A mixture of abstraction and portraiture, Tianbing’s works use his own strong visual language which draws on Western contemporary art and traditional Chinese techniques. Visual motifs recur repetitively such as his haunting use of staining which represents the corrosive power of political dictatorship. There is no doubt that these pieces are striking.

The one-child system meant that Tianbing had an extremely lonely existence whilst growing up and, for him, art was the lifeline he grasped to survive this reality, taking refuge in his imagination and inventing his own life. As well as showing the playmates he longed for, his works also show the hidden children of the regime.

Being able to spend time as a family is something that many Chinese never knew. Tianbing, who now lives in Paris, already has a son and his second child is on the way. This is something that we take for granted and don’t even consider but Tianbing feels as if he has won a prize. His works are very moving and thought-provoking; they make us look at the cosy nature of our own existence and acknowledge the trials that Tianbing and others like him had to endure growing up under the oppressive Chinese administration.

Now that Tianbing is less lost and has found what he missed during his youth, his works have become more grounded with a glimmer of happiness. Although the memory of the one-child policy will always be omnipresent, he has moved on to look at other issues affecting the Chinese economy. Tianbing’s works have a powerful hold on viewers and, because they have room to breathe and are not over-crowded in the gallery, the children’s intense gazes do not let you go.

We wandered up Bond Street, past Sotheby’s who were preparing for the Munch viewing, to Opera Gallery where, for us, the highlight of their mixed contemporary show was two photographs by Gérard Rancinan.

Gérard Rancinan, On the Way Back from Disneyland, 2011. Image courtesy of the artist and via www.operagallery.com.

For the first of our private views we headed back the way we’d come and turned onto Bruton Street. Trinity Contemporary is tucked away upstairs and would be easy to miss if you didn’t know it was there. We chickened out of going in the very creaky old lift and climbed up the stairs to their surprisingly light and neat space on the third floor to see a solo exhibition of drawings by Emma McNally. Atoms Insects Mountains Stars is inspired by the work of French philosopher Gilles Deleuze and these works show the artist’s extensive working with graphite made of carbon which reflects her interest in philosophy, science and music. McNally’s pencil works are highly detailed looking as if they may well be the result of scientific readings – their vocabulary has been compared both to musical scores and computer coding, due to its rhythmic and harmonic activity. In some of her new works, McNally has turned drawing into a sculptural process, pouring pure graphite powder onto large surfaces and then hammering nails into them. The works shimmer, forming an intricate network of lines and marks.

Emma McNally at Trinity Contemporary. Own photograph.

Back to near where we started, we popped into Simon Lee which has to win top marks for being the buzziest private view of the evening. It was packed with people drinking and gossiping for Paulina Olowska’s first solo show here. Her new works continue her exploration of feminist and socially-engaged themes, often channelling or paying homage to other women artists. Here, she plays with the rudimentary idea of the muse and the imagined, or remembered, image of a mother. The images have a sense of fragility, trying to preserve a moment in time as it passes by.

Paulina Olowska at Simon Lee. Own photograph.

My feet were now starting to suffer and as I limped to Sarah Myerscough I had a feeling that this may well have to be our final stop. Tucked away on Brooks Mews, the gallery is presenting an exhibition with works by 11 artists on the subject of monochrome. There is no pretension, just a few really nice works in black and white.

B&W (Monochrome), Sarah Myerscough Fine Art. Own photograph.

A simple one with which to finish but I couldn’t face walking another pace to another place. I hobbled round the corner, changed into ballet pumps and scurried home. The other three galleries on my overly ambitious list will have to wait until another day.

Today (well yesterday by the time you are reading) was hectic and ridiculous even for one of my mad private view evenings. Even before I began the openings, I’d been at Somerset House, where the courtyard is currently being turfed for a brilliant-looking art installation, and visited Michael Ajerman’s studio where I was allowed a look at his amazing current work.

Somerset House. Own photograph.

His studio is only a five minute walk from Flowers on Kingsland Road. With some of the PVs opening at 4pm and with such a long to-see list, I popped into Flowers for an early sneak peek while they were still setting up and plugging in the works. The artist very kindly got everything going for me so I could have a look.

I first met Tim Lewis at another Flowers opening and had only seen one of his works first-hand before this show but they are hypnotic. Mechanisms takes over the downstairs galleries at Flowers with a huge range of Lewis’s works, bringing together some of his most progressive and challenging pieces.

Tim Lewis at Flowers, Kingsland Road. Own photograph.

His kinetic sculptures are a marvel and require great skill and dedication to make; the electronic programming and physicality entails an extensive period of development for each individual piece. This is Lewis’s passion and he has been making mechanised works since the age of eight so no wonder his ideas are now so advanced. All the works are mesmerising but two stood out for me – Jetsam, a large mechanised bird-like creature, fixed to a robotic arm, is programmed to attempt to build a nest. The creature picks up objects which it stumbles upon moving them to a specified point. It is not affected by human interference and must work within the limits set by the artist. I could have stayed and watched this sculpture on its heart-wrenching, continuous journey for hours.

Tim Lewis, Jetsam. Own photograph.

Pony is one of Lewis’s more well-known works; an ostrich-like form, constructed from three mechanical arms, moves across the floor towing an empty carriage. It is an independent entity, slightly alarming but beautiful and reminiscent of a scene from a fairy-tale. Lewis’s works capture a spirit unlike any other – they are fun yet wistful, pondering on the transience and difficulties of life through self-contained forms on pre-determined journeys. Fundamentally, they are just beautiful.

Tim Lewis, Pony. Own photograph.

I was loathe to leave but felt I should let them finish setting up and I had eight galleries to get to.

My next stop was White Cube, Hoxton Square. All three London White Cubes were opening tonight with LONDON PICTURES by Gilbert & George. The series consists of 292 pictures in their largest project to date. It is typical Gilbert & George and if you don’t like them (I do) then it’s too late to be converted. Although using their expected formula, these works are approached from a new angle. They make use of nearly 4,000 newspaper headline posters which the artists stole, collected and classified over a period of ten years. Using the language of the media, they present a survey of modern life making us aware of its violence, destruction and terror. Of course, Gilbert & George appear in all the works, staring at us, watching the world go by, haunting the streets of London.

They are huge, striking works using predominantly black, red and white. They do not show a pleasant London but one of which we should be fearful. It was somewhat strange seeing the beer buckets outside in the square during the afternoon but, by the size of the crowd gathering, everyone was quickly adapting to this new style PV.

I continued to White Cube in Mason’s Yard to see some more of the exhibition where the harrowing topics continue – brawl, kill, deaths, jail, paedo. Gilbert & George themselves were at Mason’s Yard chatting happily to visitors along with Jay Jopling and the usual White Cube celebrity crowd. The works are more ‘in your face’ than usual; however blunt the truth is present in every work. Brooding and violent, they show what contemporary society is really like in a collective portrait of London. All this does sound very depressing and while the works may give a powerful message I think it’s important to remember how lovely London is and that we don’t need to fear every step we take. Not that this is the intention of the works, but it’s easy to get weighed down by the violence.

As I was running to schedule, I hopped in a cab to the Josh Lilley Gallery to see their Sarah Dwyer exhibition which opened at the end of February. Dwyer’s works have incredible painted textures where the surfaces resonate with movement and energy. Through painting in layers and constantly revising her compositions, Dwyer pulls together inchoate shapes and ambiguous forms to suggest something unknown, a manifestation of her subconscious in other-worldly scenes. Her mark-making echoes the stream of consciousness writing of James Joyce with its lyrical forms and ambiguous allusions. Obviously, all art is subjective but these will speak to different people in very different ways as the shapes are open to so many interpretations.

Sarah Dwyer, Saudade. Own photograph.

Her works hold many influences and the shapes of Soutine and Gorky are evident but the list is endless. Seven large canvases are on show downstairs – the gallery isn’t overloaded but cleverly filled so that the works are allowed room to breathe and space to speak.

Dwyer’s paintings are very powerful, fighting for attention with their bold colours and intriguing shapes. This is another winner at a gallery who are consistently showing great talent.

Sarah Dwyer’s Falling into Positions at Josh Lilley. Own photograph.

It was already proving a good afternoon/evening and I was finding the art energising.

Next up was the new Haunch of Venison on Eastcastle Street, another area that is becoming a new art hotspot. This is quite a small space with only two main rooms. We are so used to Haunch’s mega-spaces that everybody kept looking for more but with the crisp Haunch-style aesthetic that we’re used to it’s a great second gallery. Their opening exhibition is Katie Paterson’s 100 Billion Suns which presents a selection of her recent projects where, using a series of sophisticated technologies, she transforms distant occurrences in the universe into objects that we can comprehend on a human scale. One such work is The Dying Star Letters; every time a star exploded, Paterson wrote and posted a letter to communicate this. Through a range of everyday formats, Paterson reduces these distant occurrences into a medium we can easily understand.

This is a very subtle exhibition and one that was slightly lost tonight due to the heaving crowd celebrating Haunch’s opening.

The new Haunch. Own photograph.

Initially, I decided to give Paradise Row a miss and headed to the station. But, after 20 minutes of waiting outside Oxford Circus, due to overcrowding, I decided to walk back to Paradise Row to see Birdhead’s new large-scale black and white photography. The artistic duo are known for looking at daily life in Shanghai; their snapshot-like images form a passage of thought and we are able to follow the artists through their day-to-day activities.

Birdhead take over Paradise Row. Own photograph.

Downstairs, is an exhibition of work by Justin Coombes. In complete contrast, these are colourful over-saturated images that fuse the fantastical with the everyday. Lots of people seemed to be moving from Haunch to Paradise Row, happy that they only had to walk round the corner for a second helping of art.

I did pass other openings in the taxi on my way to Gagosian but, although I tried, I had to admit that I couldn’t manage every gallery opening in London tonight. Britannia Street is showing new works by Thomas Ruff. Ruff seeks to test the limits of photography and, over the years, his subject matter has varied hugely as has his form of image-making. But astronomy has always been a source of interest and this latest body of works contemplates Mars using images sourced through the public Internet archive of NASA. Ruff transforms the fragmentary representations with saturated colours that alter the feel of the landscapes.

He has also worked with 3D-image making and on entry to one side gallery, you can pick up a pair of specially designed 3D glasses. All these did was make me rather dizzy and I preferred the viewing experience without them. These are not photographs as we would expect. The works are impressive, transforming strange and foreign landscapes into a minefield of even more distorted scenes. We are encouraged to look from both near and far, studying the pixelated colour patterns as well as the scene as a whole. As impactful as they are, I didn’t find them particularly exciting – I could take them or leave them and they certainly weren’t as moving as some of the exhibitions I’d just seen.

Gagosian on Davies Street is also showing Ruff’s work but a series of unique monumental nudes. I had to admit defeat and accept this wasn’t one I could squeeze in tonight, unless someone knows how to teleport me from place to place. All galleries now seem to be using their multiple spaces as a whole which means I will probably spend many more nights running across London to get the proper atmosphere of an exhibition.

It was time to shrink. All the walking was taking its toll and I had to sacrifice my stilettos for some more practical footwear so that I could get to my final stop in one piece.

I couldn’t end my evening without seeing the third London White Cube – Bermondsey was packed. It was important to visit all three spaces to get a full sense of the scale of the project. Only visiting one of the galleries felt like walking into a blockbuster show and only bothering to look at one room. The scale of LONDON PICTURES, as always with Gilbert & George, is mind-blowing. Yet, the exhibition at Bermondsey only uses the South Galleries, flowing between three connecting rooms, which shows quite how enormous this gallery is.

Like me, Gilbert & George were moving between the different White Cubes but they looked more awake than I did. I was ‘done in’ and it was time to buy a weighty, but great, catalogue and limp back to London Bridge to call it a night. I could easily wax lyrical about many of these exhibitions and there are truly some gems here. The brevity of some of the reviews certainly does not reflect their quality but more the quantity I crammed in to one evening.

If I’m going to have another night like this I may need to sacrifice my stilettos for skates!

Tim Lewis: Mechanisms is at Flowers, Kingsland Road, until 14th April 2012, www.flowersgalleries.com. Gilbert & George: LONDON PICTURES is at all three London White Cubes until 12th May 2012, www.whitecube.com. Sarah Dwyer: Falling into Positions is at the Josh Lilley Gallery until 30th March 2012, www.joshlilleygallery.com. Katie Paterson: 100 Billion Suns is at Haunch of Venison, Eastcastle Street until 28th April 2012, www.haunchofvenison.com. Justin Coombes: Halcyon Song and Welcome to Birdhead World Again are at Paradise Row until 7th April 2012, www.paradiserow.com. Thomas Ruff: ma.r.s. is at Gagosian Gallery until 21st April 2012, www.gagosian.com.

Yesterday, after finishing my meetings with ample time, I decided to take a leisurely bus ride to the East End. I now realise that there’s an oxymoron in that sentence. Without a bus guru to hand, there is nothing relaxing about bus travel. Luckily, I spotted one nearly straight away (not just any old bus but one that was marked Old Street) and, without any thought, ran (difficult enough in heels) to the closing doors. Phew! As it crossed Waterloo Bridge, heading south, I knew something was wrong. I may have got the right bus route but it was heading in the wrong direction. By the time I changed buses, time was tight and I had to take a taxi from Old Street station in order to get to Flowers before they closed. Somewhat ironic that a taxi came to the rescue after all.

David Hepher at Flowers. Own photograph.

Flowers are currently showing a series of new work by David Hepher which explores the infamous Aylesbury Estate in Walworth, South East London. Crime, poverty and violence – the Aylesbury Estate is often used to exemplify all these things and frequently crops up in discussions about urban decay. Commenced in 1963 (and demolished in 2010), it was a vast mass of concrete, originally intended to regenerate the lives of the working classes of South London – another irony. Spread over a site of 285,000 square metres, Ayelsbury was the largest estate in Europe, intended to house approximately 10,000 people. Aylesbury remained stuck in time, the perfect showpiece of suffocating post-war planning.

Hepher’s interest in images of homes stems from the fact that a house is the first image a child will paint as a symbol of refuge and of safety. Now, he looks at how people are forced to live in different environments, raising questions about society and living conditions. He relishes the dirty personality of these council flats with their stained and eroded walls and their constantly changing appearance as people move in and out. Hepher is able to take something ugly and imbue it with a sense of carefully considered beauty. The façades may have once been uniform but by focusing on such detail, he refreshes these buildings, concentrating on individual sections. Using a close-up grid structure, Hepher exploits the angular architecture of the flats, creating a moving portrait of Brutalist architecture with idealistic scenes of escapism used to contrast the grittier surfaces of the buildings.

In an attempt to capture the very essence of the buildings, Hepher mixes building sand with his oil paint to incorporate the fabric of the architecture in the works. This simple technique helps to bring the paintings to life.

David Hepher, Aylesbury (Homage to Robert Gober), 2008-10. Own photograph.

These works are an interesting combination of portrait and landscape; they show the immense scale of the Aylesbury tower blocks – one of the works, consisting of five canvases, is ten metres long. Hepher doesn’t paint Aylesbury because of the political or social connotations nor because the buildings have been branded ‘ugly’ but because he believes they were an impressive part of our landscape.

Detail of a David Hepher work. Own photograph.

Somewhat amazingly (considering my earlier slip up) I know parts of the East End well enough to go on foot and I headed round the corner to the Hoxton Art Gallery whose new exhibition Utopia plays with ideas from the seminal text by Sir Thomas More. Written in 1516, during the turbulent reign of Henry VIII, More’s narrator Raphael Hythloday describes the island of Utopia, that he believes to be the ideal human society. It appears that More himself didn’t actually believe Utopia to be the perfect society and its complex meanings are intentional. The book analyses More’s desire to create a perfect world juxtaposed with his realistic knowledge that perfection in mankind is impossible. This is not the place for an analysis of More’s humanist philosophy and ultimate religious martyrdom but the exhibition presents an interesting concept which is, here, explored by four artists. Their work couldn’t be more varied, although all are united by the theme of Utopia with a twist – Utopia filled with ideas of disruption and turmoil. Because, as More showed, Utopia cannot really exist.

Stephen Dickie, The Mundaneum Debate, 2012. Own photograph.

Stephen Dickie’s work looks at the ideas of intellectual utopia, exploring the different ways in which we pursue knowledge. His works appropriate structures and systems built to foster and preserve knowledge although the pieces of equipment he uses are adapted so as to become dysfunctional; broken cassettes sit atop a vinyl record emitting phonetic sounds which will, no doubt, drive the gallery staff mad by the end of the show.

Wieland Payer’s drawings also stood out, representing distant and ethereal landscapes with peculiar misplaced figures. Payer seeks to portray nostalgia for a period of European Romanticism.

Wieland Payer drawings series, 2011. Own photograph.

This is a focused show with a very successful concept. I cannot say all the artists’ works appealed to me but the ideas behind them are certainly thought-provoking.

And, off I went again, past Shoreditch Magistrates Court (only last week occupied by the Occupy Movement who curated a brilliant sound installation in the dank cells) and Lounge Lover – it seemed as if I was doing a walking tour of the East End…in heels!

Occupy at Shoreditch Magistrate’s Court. Own photograph.

By now I was exhausted and my next stop, Annexe (part of the Brick Lane Gallery but, confusingly, not on Brick Lane) did not reward me for my crazily long walk. For me, Christopher Oldfield’s paintings were crude and lacked visual immediacy. They didn’t capture me and I didn’t need to stay.

Christopher Oldfield, Paintings. Own photograph.

Although I was shattered, I knew the rest of my list wouldn’t disappoint. The cabbie (yes, I did take another cab) didn’t really know where Hewett Street was but between us we worked it out and I was relieved to have a sit down at all those red lights.

For the last 18 months, Daniel Rapley has been writing the King James Bible by hand, on standard notepaper, using a ballpoint pen. That’s 783,137 words. Sic is a labour of love. This exhibition alone made the disappointment of my trip to Brick Lane fade away. Rapley’s work is amazing – there is nothing else like this around.

Daniel Rapley, Sic. Own photograph.

While the rest of the exhibition is subtly lit, Rapley’s bible glows (a design conceived by curator, Michael Hall). The work is displayed in a case where only the top page is visible; you see one tiny fraction of this mammoth concept, this huge artistic undertaking. You have to have the belief that all the words are on all the pages – the same religious belief upheld by those who study the Bible every day is needed to view the work. This is an idea also played on in Forty where you only see the first of 40 identical drawings stacked against the wall. Much to the horror of those around him, one gallery-goer decided to flick through – it did allow for the non-believers to have a good look though. The work is about faith and its integrity is unprecedented.

Daniel Rapley, Forty. Own photograph.

You don’t have to be religious to understand this work. You certainly don’t have to have read, or know, the Bible. Sic is the visual manifestation of a private performance that requires the belief of the viewer. It is a covenant that questions conventions of artistic labour and productivity, of authorship and creativity.

Alongside Sic, Rapley is showing seven large text drawings which he created during this labour-intensive project. These hand-drawn manuscripts describe the minutiae of Rapley’s life, brief bursts of inspiration as he painstakingly embarked on Sic.

Daniel Rapley, Exigencies 1-7. Own photograph.

Rapley is impressive and his work is refreshing; he has broken down the whole concept of religion into an intellectually sincere, thought-provoking piece. The spin-off works about his life are comical yet serious, equally clever and stimulating. The images don’t do any of these works justice and the pieces must be seen to be believed. Rapley’s dedication and focus must not be underestimated and this show is a must-see.

Finally, we hailed a cab (yes, another one) and headed to the other end of Old Street to Cabinet (or Curtain as I keep calling it – I guess tiredness has a lot to answer for this week). Having seen Cabinet at Frieze this year, I wanted to check out their permanent space on the ground floor of a block of flats – so discreet you wouldn’t have any idea that it even existed. Homo Economicus explores the relationship between art and labour through a study of the political economy. The term homo economicus posits humans as self-interested actors who have the ability to have make decisions to maximise situations for their own well-being.

Cabinet. Own photograph.

The works present an interesting discussion and breakdown of capitalist philosophies, visualising the role of economics in relation to art. The exhibition is in two parts, the second of which can be seen at Mehringdamm 72 in Berlin. Together they explore the political consequences and resistances that this economic model can encounter and endure.

Homo Economicus at Cabinet. Own photograph.

After an evening of such varied and heavy concepts my brain was starting to spin. We walked and walked and walked, tripping and falling over cobbles along the way and finally collapsed at the wonderful Le Café du Marché to relax and warm up.

Trying to pick my favourite exhibitions from this year has been quite a difficult task. I’ve seen some rubbish but I’ve also seen an awful lot of amazing shows – 2011 has been a strong year for the art calendar. In fact, reading back through Artista, I wonder how I have I managed to totter to so many galleries in the last few months. But, there’s always so much to see…

My favourite exhibitions really left their mark, those I can still immediately recall that still delight me. I’ve chosen the shows that weren’t just aesthetically pleasing but were also well-curated and academically interesting. These are the ones that tick all the boxes.

Towering at Tate – The Gerhard Richter exhibition that is still on show at Tate Modern is breath-taking, looking at Richter’s diverse oeuvre as an unbroken panorama. At Tate Britain, Vorticists win the prize – charting a short-lived movement, Tate aimed to place Vorticism in an international context, studying the impact of World War I on these artists.

Detail of one of Gerhard Richter’s Cage Paintings, 2006. Own photograph.

Rocking at the Royal Academy – The Royal Academy’s upstairs gallery has to have one of the strongest exhibition programmes in London. It’s a tie for the best show there this year between the recent Soviet Art and Architecture and Eyewitness: Hungarian Photography.

Knockout at the National Gallery – For me, Drenched in Devotion stole the show this year. Looking at altarpieces in their context, the NG examined their structure and relationship to the surrounding architecture, following the formal, stylistic and typological developments across the period of focus. One room was even turned into a chapel.

Leaving London – Revealed: Turner Contemporary Opens was an extremely strong exhibition to launch another new public art gallery designed, of course, by David Chipperfield. Highlights were from Daniel Buren and Conrad Shawcross.

Daniel Buren, Borrowing and Multiplying the Landscape, 2011. Own photograph.

Aaah… but there was also the shoes exhibition, Rembrandt and Bacon at Ordovas, Nicola Hicks and Mona Kuhn at Flowers, the many brilliant shows at Josh Lilley and the poignant timing of Lisson’s Ai Weiwei show. What a year! To look back at these exhibitions, use the categories or tags on the right hand side of the screen to make scrolling that bit easier.

I had been looking forward to seeing Small is Beautiful at Flowers since I first received the invitation which stated that works were guaranteed not to exceed its own size – 9 inches by 7 inches.

Small is Beautiful at Flowers. Own photograph.

I know things like this have been done time and time again (the RCA secret postcard show being a prime example) and this is something of a tradition for Flowers but that didn’t stop me feeling a frisson of excitement. I was interested to see if all the works conformed and, although I resisted carrying my invite around and sizing up, I reckon most of them did.

Small is Beautiful at Flowers. Own photograph.

The private view was bustling and, with works by 80 artists, that was hardly a surprise. The pieces couldn’t be more varied, ranging from small-scale paintings to moving sculptures. Most of Flowers’ big names make an appearance – there’s a Richard Smith work and a Patrick Hughes. A gorgeous Nicola Hicks’ bear stands proudly on a plinth, reminding everyone of her recent exhibition on Kingsland Road.

Nicola Hicks, There is no moral high ground between a bear and a dog, 2010. Own photograph.

As is so often the case, my time was limited last night (dinner at The Zetter beckoned) and I didn’t get a chance to push past everyone to look closely at all the works but two stood out for me. Maybe I’m predictable but I loved number 76 – Julian Opie’s Catherine Dancing (pink). I have long admired Opie. I remember seeing some of his work at the National Portrait Gallery as part of my AS-level art project. And, when I returned to school with all my write-ups and drawings, the art teacher scornfully told me that all I had deliberately picked the easiest artist to copy. No artist is actually easy to copy as anyone who has studied art (except forgers) will know. I picked Opie because I think he’s wonderful but it certainly antagonised me enough to make me continue looking at his work.

Opie’s works are, of course, instantly recognisable and his career has been preoccupied with the investigation of representation through his own reductive, formal language. Catherine Dancing is a three-dimensional exploration of a typical Opie figure.

Julian Opie, Catherine Dancing (pink), 2011. Own photograph.

Another highlight for me was displayed just behind the Opie. I met Tim Lewis a few weeks ago at another Flowers’ event but wasn’t familiar with his work. Lewis’s Pann is a strange mechanical creature who paces across a platform. All the pieces in this show are typical snapshots into the artists’ working styles and Pann is no exception. Lewis’s anthropomorphic entities mix intricate mechanics with a dextrous appreciation of both art and artifice. His creative drive and obsession with form is apparent but it is contagious; I was quickly captivated, following Pann’s journey, back and forth, back and forth.

Tim Lewis, Pann, 2011. Own photograph.

Normally, at such a busy opening it is inevitable that I will be trodden on but this didn’t happen yesterday as I had decided to don a new pair of shoes. The first comment when I bought them was that they look like a lethal weapon. If the stiletto is good for moving others’ feet out the way then why not take the theme to the rest of the shoe! Don’t worry, I’m not that vicious but they certainly provoked a reaction.